Ice Wraith Bane
by Ebonclaw
Summary: By slaying an Ice Wraith, you become one of the Stormcloak soldiers - but can an Imperial become one of the Nords as well? Oneshot.


**A/N:** This is more or less a sequel to my other oneshot '_A lion among bears_' but it can be read on its own as well c:  
I want to thank **skyflower51**, whose review made me kick myself in the butt and finish this fic!

* * *

I was incredibly tired after just having set my foot in Windhelm for the first time.

That woman, Delphine, had dragged me all across the land in the middle of the night only to make me prove that I was the Dragonborn. There had been a dragon attacking Kynesgrove, just like she said, and together we had defeated not that dragon, but the one it was resurrecting. At least that was what I thought had happened – I honestly had no idea.

After that whole incident I had been on the verge of collapsing due to lack of sleep and because of the intense battle, which Delphine seemed to completely ignore – or not notice at all – and she told me to meet her back in Riverwood. That wasn't going to happen anytime soon, since I had left my horse back there. I considered taking a carriage, but I was honestly a bit low on money ever since I bought Allie.

Instead, I took off to the inn in Kynesgrove, and found to my great annoyance that there was no one there. At an inn! Resisting the temptation of stealing at least some food and mead, I sat down in order to wait for someone to appear. However, it didn't take long until I had fallen asleep in a very uncomfortable position at the benches.

When I woke up and stumbled out into the cold morning air, the last thing I wanted to do was go back to Riverwood. I was a bit worried about Allie, but I was sure the kids in the village would take care of her – Delphine I didn't care about at all at the moment.

I decided to go to Windhelm instead, since it wasn't far from there and I had never been there before. Besides the guards making their usual snide remarks, I was greeted by an argument between two Nords and a Dark Elf. Before I could get caught up in it – like I always did – I turned to the left and ended up at the market place, where I sold some of the things I had picked up along my travels.

The residents all kindly informed me that there had been several murders in the city lately, and I overheard another argument as well – this one between the blacksmith and his apprentice. This didn't seem like a friendly place to be at all, and I could feel the Nords giving me disapproving looks when they thought I didn't notice.

In an effort to get away from that, I continued through the streets and immediately ended up in the middle of a cemetery. There was a priestess standing in silent prayer by one of the graves, and I decided not to bother her and continued on through what was obviously the wealthy part of the city.

Then I turned a corner and the Palace of Kings suddenly stood before me, casting its impressive shadow over the courtyard and making me feel small and insignificant. Guards stood on both sides of the massive doors, but the mere thought of someone trying to attack this fortress was ridiculous.

I couldn't believe I once had the mission to kill Ulfric Stormcloak, who was most likely right on the other side of those doors.

The first few moments after I stepped into the Palace of the Kings I couldn't move. I felt even more insignificant and tiny – the thick stone walls were heavy with the spirits of all the great kings and heroes who had walked that place; the air itself seemed to reverberate with courage, times passed, and… something else. Something much more difficult to place.

Then Ulfric's dark eyes caught mine from the other side of the room and for a brief second, I stopped breathing. It was like he saw into my soul – he saw what I was and what I had been, and he knew why I came even though I didn't know it myself.

It was only for a split second, then he looked away again, focused on the conversation with his companion – a big, burly man with the pelt of a bear hanging over his shoulders. I didn't recognize him, but Ulfric spoke to him in a most familiar way.

"I'll die before elves dictate the fates of men. Are we not one in this?" the man asked, his voice deep and commanding – but it was still nothing compared to Ulfric's.

"I fight for the men I've held in my arms, dying on foreign soil. I fight for their wives and children, whose names I heard whispered in their last breaths," Ulfric said. The passion in his voice was clear, as was the pain. I unconsciously moved closer, completely mesmerized by his mere presence. "I fight for we few who did come home, only to find our country full of strangers wearing familiar faces. I fight for my people impoverished to pay the debts of an Empire too weak to rule them, yet brands them criminals for wanting to rule themselves! I fight so that all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing." He suddenly sounded very tired, but continued nonetheless. "I fight… because I must."

And then I realized what that feeling was – the one I couldn't place before. Love. Love of his country and love of his people. He'd never betray them, and he wouldn't stop fighting until he died.

"Your words give voice to what we all feel, Ulfric. And that's why you will be High King. But the day words are enough, will be the day soldiers like us are no longer needed."

"I would gladly retire from the world were such a day to dawn," Ulfric said with a weary smile. But then he turned his eyes away from that man who I guessed was his right hand, and looked at me instead. I didn't realize how close I was until then, but it was too late to do anything about that now.

"Only the foolish or the courageous approach a Jarl without summons…" he said, but he sounded amused rather than angered by this. "Do I know you?" he asked.

I forced myself to meet his piercing eyes.

"I believe we have already met," I said, fighting not to let my voice tremble.

"Is that so…? Ah yes, you were with us at Helgen. Destined for the chopping block if I'm not mistaken." Again, he sounded amused, but then sobered up a bit. "Tell me… you are an Imperial, why were you in Ralof's camp as one of his men?"

"I… didn't realize you knew I was an Imperial," I said, stalling for time.

"I didn't at first. I thought you were a Breton, much like Ralof told me, but then I saw your eyes… You had the eyes of one of the Empire's dogs."

I felt a jolt through my stomach. That hurt more than it should have. What was I doing here? What did I hope to accomplish by speaking to Ulfric? Was I somehow hoping that he'd say something that made me change my mind – that made me pick a side even though I had been torn between the Stormcloaks and the Empire for weeks now?

But then I realized… I picked sides a long time ago, before I even knew it myself.

"My Jarl, I…" I began, but trailed off. Then I couldn't lie anymore – I knelt down in front of Ulfric Stormcloak and unstrapped the sword from my belt, placing it on the cold stone floor in front of me. "I have something to confess. I was with Ralof and his men because I had been sent by the Empire to kill you."

The moment I the words left my lips, all the guards in the room drew their weapons and quickly rushed forward. Ulfric's right hand, who was standing closest to us, immediately drew his giant battle axe and stepped closer. I didn't even need to look up – I knew Ulfric had stopped them all with nothing but a wave of his hand as all motion in the hall stopped at once. I also knew he needed nothing more than another wave of his hand to make his closest man chop off my head right then and there.

I closed my eyes tight, focusing on my story and not the presence of death looming nothing but inches above my head.

"I infiltrated that Stormcloak camp as a Breton because my superiors knew I would eventually meet you… and when I did, I was to kill you. It didn't matter if I made it out of it alive or not; what mattered was putting an end to this war by making you disappear.

But I learned something during that time I spent with the Stormcloaks. I learned of their longing for their families, their pain, and of all the things they have lost in this war.

… Most of all I learned about you. Your compassion, your _passion_ – the way you spoke to your men and treated them like equals; the pain in your eyes as you saw the wounded and the dead… and the hatred in your voice as you spoke of the Empire."

My breath was faster than usual, my heartbeats racing.

"Why did you come?" Ulfric finally wondered. To my amazement, he didn't sound angered, displeased or even surprised. I dared to glance upwards for a brief moment, and found that he was indeed smiling, just ever so slightly. My breath caught, but hope filled my chest.

"I came because… because I knew I did wrong. I was brought up in a land by a family who glorified the Empire and all it stood for – but that is not an excuse. For all my life, the ideals of the Empire were all I knew, and the honor of joining them in battle was the greatest of them all.

But The Empire is wrong. Skyrim belongs to the Nords, just like Cyrodiil belongs to us.

If you'll let me, I want to join the Stormcloaks and help you drive out the Empire. If not, you might as well kill me."

I closed my eyes and went silent. I knew, instinctively, that Ulfric would never kill me. He might banish me, lock me up in prison or throw me out in the middle of a blizzard. It didn't matter – not even if I was the Dragonborn and was destined to save the land – all I needed was Ulfric's approval, and if I didn't get it I might as well be dead.

"Very well," Ulfric finally said, his tone unreadable. "You speak like a true daughter of Skyrim. But I need to know if I can trust you, and I need to know how much you can take."

"Anything, my Jarl," I said, clenching my fist over my heart. I hadn't expected to be allowed to join the Stormcloaks that easily.

"When Nords who consider themselves to be warriors reach a certain age, they go out alone to slay an Ice Wraith, as a rite of passage. If you want to be regarded as a Nord, and as a Stormcloak, you will have to kill one as well."

"Yes, my Jarl." I stood up, grabbing my sword as I went. Ulfric's closest man had moved a bit further away, but was still holding his battle axe loosely in his hands and kept a close eye on me. The guards were still cautious, but had backed off a little. Ulfric, however, had a small, amused smile on his lips.

"Fight, or die well."

* * *

The road to Serpentstone Island had been long and treacherous.

I had never been that far up north before, and being from Cyrodiil I definitely wasn't used to the cold. I had Allie as my only companion, but I could tell she didn't appreciate the snow either. At least she managed to find the right places to put down her hooves, despite the ground being covered in ice, and our progress was slow but safe.

I reached Serpentstone Island just as the sun began to set. I had managed to find an old, abandoned boat, but that meant I had to leave Allie behind. I definitely didn't like leaving her there on the shore, with both wolves and sabre cats nearby, but it was either that or swimming out to the island. The boat was unsteady and the wood was rotten, but it transported me safely over the water.

The stone itself was smaller than I had imagined. I had encountered several others of the standing stones on my travels – including the Warrior Stone, which blessing I had accepted – and I always wondered who had made them, and for what reason.

I ran my hand over the smooth surface of the stone, following the carvings with the tips of my fingers. The sun was setting behind me, bathing everything in a soft pink and orange light. The blizzard Allie and I had fought our way through had finally dispersed, and for that I was grateful. Fighting an ice wraith was bad enough; fighting one in the middle of a snow storm was downright suicidal. I had never encountered an ice wraith before, since I hadn't been to the snowier parts of the country, but I had heard stories of them, and none of them were pleasant.

A sudden hissing sound made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I immediately twirled around, drawing my sword and putting my shield up in defense.

There was nothing there.

I shifted slightly and adjusted my grip on the shield, looking both to the right and left for any signs of danger.

Then I heard it again, right next to my ear this time. But the instant I looked in that direction, something sharp and searing cold slit open a wound on my other arm, just at the interstice between my armor and my bracers. A shocked gasp tore itself from my throat, and I swung out my sword blindly in that direction without even thinking.

I didn't even know if I hit anything, but even if I did I couldn't feel it. The only thing I felt was a biting cold that stung at my skin – like when you got too close to a fire, only now it was chilling instead of warming. The ice wraith hissed again, and I swore it sounded just like a laugh.

Then I finally saw it – it was hovering in midair, and appeared to be riding the wind currents like one of the kites I used to play with as a child. This creature, however, looked like a kite from a nightmare I could've had back then. It looked like a snake and moved like one too, but it was transparent to the point where it was difficult to distinguish from the background of snow and ice. The one thing that did make it easy to discover was the sound – besides the hissing, it made a constant but vague clinking sound, like shattering ice.

I lashed my sword out at it, but it dodged with discouraging ease and made a sweeping move towards me. I didn't even notice it hitting me, but a split second later blood was running down my forehead and obscuring my view. It couldn't have been a deep cut, but it stung like I had been poisoned.

Seeing the wraith in the corner of my eye, I attacked it yet again and this time actually hit. I almost couldn't sense my sword going through its body – there was barely any resistance – and the only indication I got that I hadn't missed was a sound like shattering glass and an enraged hiss from it.

The ice wraith backed off a bit, but I followed, moving away from the stone that had served my watch my back up until that moment. With a strange rattling sound that, for a split second, reminded me of the rattlesnakes we had back in Cyrodiil, the wraith suddenly charged at me. I raised my shield in defense, but before I could even comprehend what had happened, the ice wraith wasn't in front of me anymore.

Then the pain hit me. It was so intense I stopped breathing for a moment – it felt like my heart had turned to ice in an instant and the cold spread like lightning throughout my body, making my limbs numb and immovable. My sword and shield suddenly felt like they weighed a ton, but my fingers were frozen in place and I couldn't drop my only means of defense. My knees almost gave in and I struggled to find my breath, all while the ice wraith circled me and hissed as if it was laughing.

I cursed myself for not remembering to pour some of the poison I had gotten onto my sword. The bottles were stored safely in my backpack, but they were useless there.

As I lost sight of the wraith for a moment, it didn't take long before it swept out towards me again. I tried dodging, but in vain, and this time the sharp, cold pain hit my upper thigh. I snarled and desperately tried to get my shield back up, but I couldn't resist looking down – and found to my surprise that even though the pain was still running up and down my leg, my armor appeared unscathed.

I heard an outdrawn hiss and a tinkling sound somewhere in front of me, and with my last ounce of strength, I bashed my shield in the ice wraith's direction. I was rewarded with a sound like someone had shattered a window, and shards of ice flying off in a small explosion. I could feel several off them cut open small wounds on my cheeks and forehead, and embed themselves into my armor.

When I finally dared to lower my shield, there was nothing in front of me anymore, and it was eerily silent. All that was left was a pile of slightly glowing dust on the ground – it didn't look quite like snow, more like very finely ground ice. There was still a faint hissing in the air, a clinking sound that forced me to still be on my guard.

There were shards of ice in that pile, I realized as I cautiously bent forward, trying to determine whether or not it was actually dead. Two of the pieces seemed to be bigger than the others, and I realized it was the creature's teeth. I picked them up even though they were so cold they seemed to burn at my skin. I didn't dare to place them in my pocket or backpack, and held them in my hand even though my fingers turned numb after nothing but a few minutes.

It took me a while to find the boat I had used to get there, which scared me for a moment. I wasn't too keen on swimming back to the shore.

What scared me even more was the sight of Allie as I approached land again. She was standing quite a bit away from where I had left her, and I could see even from afar that her side was blooded. Disregarding my own safety, I jumped into the water – which wasn't more than up to my waist, but still breathtakingly chilly – and ran the last few meters through the water up to her.

A dead sabre cat was lying a few feet away from her.

I slowly walked up to Allie, careful not to frighten her in case she was still on edge, and got a puff of warm air right in my face as a greeting. A relieved smile came over my lips, but I placed a shivering hand on her neck and hid my face in her mane until I finally managed to stop trembling.

* * *

"Ulfric!"

Everything around me was a blur. Someone had a tight grip around my unharmed arm, and whoever it was they were continuously shouting out different thing – go here, fetch that person, bring them some bandages. I liked to believe I walked myself, but the truth was I was probably being dragged rather than carried.

"… badly injured… she's lost a lot of blood…"

I heard quick footsteps around me as well, along with the shouting. I couldn't understand why everyone seemed so stressed out – I was strangely calm. I was inexplicably warm and… fuzzy… and even though a small part of me knew I was badly injured I couldn't feel any pain anymore. In fact, I couldn't even feel my feet or my hands and fingers.

"… fell off her horse as she approached the gates… the horse must've found its way here on its own…"

My world was suddenly turned and I realized I had been laid down on my back as dark silhouettes bent in over me. The floor wasn't that bad a place to be – I couldn't remember the last time I had slept or even when I had been allowed to lie down. I could feel my eyes starting to close, a great tiredness coming over me, but then a big shadow bent over me and for the first time I felt something – someone's strong hands grasping my shoulders.

"… you hear me?" I heard through the mists that muffled out most of the sounds around me. "Stay with me, Imperial."

That rang a bell in my head. Something wasn't right.

I managed to let out a low sound – my throat was all dried up and it hurt just thinking about talking, but it made everyone around me pause for a brief moment. I was vaguely aware that my fingers were tightly clasped, and something in my hand not so much hurt me as it bothered me – like a small stone in your shoe. With great effort and strength I didn't even know I had, I managed to force my hand open and revealed what I had held stubbornly in my hand ever since Serpentstone Island – a pair of ice wraith teeth.

"… Stormcloak. Don't die on me, Stormcloak."

The smile in Ulfric's voice was enough to bring a smile to my own lips, and I allowed myself to slip into the darkness of unconsciousness, knowing that for once, someone else would take care of me.


End file.
